


I thought you’d never ask

by theonetryingtolive



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 23:57:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20591255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetryingtolive/pseuds/theonetryingtolive
Summary: “If you’re not going to sleep,” you whispered, a small smile on your lips. “Can I kiss you?”





	I thought you’d never ask

Smithson Utivich was curled up on his side in the floor of a barn, looking for all the world like someone had dragged him by the collar and dumped him in a haystack. Which was exactly what had happened. He had slid to the ground at some point, though, while Simon had been grumbling about bread harder than a rock and how unfair it was that bread couldn’t just be soft always, and wouldn’t it be nice to invent something to keep it soft and warm all the time? Smitty had tuned him out after the first few seconds and, because Lady Luck never seemed to be smiling on the Basterds since Wicki had pissed off a yellow jacket’s nest, started to contemplate the possibilities the night offered them now. 

First and foremost was, of course, death. Yes, at any given moment Nazis could swarm in, someone could throw a grenade, or Hugo could finally snap. The possibilities of death were endless. On the other hand, maybe they would all live and eat whatever disgusting concoction Lieutenant had whipped up this time, and get diarrhoea. Again. 

Maybe tonight would be the night Omar finally gave up on that tattered old book and throw it in the fire. Who even read the Russians, anymore? Then again, maybe tonight you would win at cards, and make Donny curse like only he could. Sighing, Smitty closed his eyes. He was too exhausted to move, and at the moment didn’t even care that he was cold, and hungry. All he wanted was to sleep, at least for a few hours. His headache had only gotten worse, and he’d been about to drop to his knees when they saw the barn, prompting Stiglitz to drag him inside and dump him on the haystack. At least it wasn’t as cold as outside. At least...

When he opened his eyes again, it was pitch black, except for the small fire someone had lit. Aldo was sitting by it, carving something out of wood, and someone had covered him up with a blanket and placed his pack under his head as a pillow. When Smithson rolled around, he cane face to face with the only member of the Basterds who was, as Ado had put it, a real fucking lady. 

He gasped softly, and your bleary eyes opened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Smitty,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him for warmth. “Go back to sleep.”

But he couldn’t. He just stared and stared, his heart felt like a rabbit high on cocaine.

“If you’re not going to sleep,” you whispered, a small smile on your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Smithson smiled back, and his hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
